Cerulean
by lumachu
Summary: Barret's eyes were cerulean, just like the seas Dorothy would spend time with, day after day. Young BarretxDorothy Friendship. Please RxR!


I seriously love this pairing in the Runefactory 2 games. Even though Dorothy is painfully shy, she's still a character I like a lot. I'd never marry her though, she belongs with Barrett, _obviously_. This story doesn't have much words, but it's all good. I liked the idea of weaving flowers into the lace at the edge of your skirt, so I used it. For some reason, in Runefactory 2, I don't like Cecilia that much. Hmmmm, I wonder why.

* * *

Cerulean

Dorothy was painfully shy. She stuttered her greetings and tripped over her words. Her face was always flustered and her skin was pale. She never felt shy when she was fishing, though. That was what she spent most of her time doing.

Dorothy's fishing pole was one of her best friends, only coming second to Fern, her beloved doll. During times when she needed solace or respite, Dorothy would take down her fishing pole from a treasured place in her room, and would head out to collect herself and her feelings amongst the turquoise and cerulean waves. She enjoyed fishing during spring the most, when the candy pink blossoms rained down on soft bursts of erratic wind.

* * *

The moment her mother's death was announced via her father's deep frown and dull eyes, she could feel the tears threatening to overcome her. Dorothy was close to tears as she ran frantically towards the port near Tanya's blacksmith, her fishing pole clasped tightly in her pale hand. She stopped cold when she saw a boy already occupying the space, and broke down on the floor, crying. She felt as if her whole world was pulled out from underneath her feet. Her mother's death had hit her full force, and she couldn't hold the tears back anymore.

After a moment of painful sobs, a soft hand rested on her head. Dorothy looked up through her bangs and saw the boy who was previously fishing standing over her and patting her head. Dorothy only remembered seeing the boy in passing whenever she took walks during the more pleasant days in the village, and she momentarily wondered why she had never bothered to learn his name.

He was a thin boy, who looked about the age of seven, which was only a year older than her. His hair was greyish-brown and his eyes were blue, just like the waters Dorothy dipped her feet in when she felt like cooling off during the summer heat.

She had stopped crying by then, oddly calmed by the boy's presence. Her body still racked with violent sobs, but the tears had stopped flowing.

"What's wrong?" the boy asked in a deadpan voice that was slightly tinged with concern.

"M-m-my...mother...d-died," she said as she felt the tears threatening to fall.

After a pause of silence, the boy said, "My mother's dead, too. She died near the time I was born."

Dorothy looked at the boy in surprise and wiped her face. He was now stooping beside her in front of a few shipment boxes next to the forge.

"D-did y-you...cry?" Dorothy asked.

"Not really. I don't remember much about her."

"O-oh..."

The boy looked at Dorothy, and saw her holding back her tears.

"If you stop crying, I can give you that fishing spot over there," the boy said, looking at Dorothy's fishing rod.

"O-oh! Ah...you don't h-have to...I-I can just f-fish somewhere else..."

"Do you want to fish there or not?" the boy said, somewhat impatiently.

"Y-yes, I d-do."

"Then the spot's all yours."

"T-thank y-you..."

"If you want to thank me, stop crying," the boy stood up to leave.

"W-wait! W-wouldn't...y-you like to s-share the fishing s-spot instead?"

The boy paused, "No, it'd be too crowded anyway."

Dorothy frowned, then said, "C-can y-you at l-least tell me...your n-name? Mine's D-Dorothy..."

The boy turned to look at her.

"Barrett," he said, then walked away.

Dorothy looked at his retreating back. All of a sudden, she wished that he would be her big brother. She stood up unsteadily and ran over to the ocean that always welcomed her, eager to see the lure of her fishing pole hit the water's surface.

* * *

"G-good m-morning!" Dorothy called as she saw Barrett walking through the front door of his house. She was sitting on the front steps of the church, weaving flowers into the edges of her skirt and sipping lemonade.

He waved and headed in the opposite direction, leaving Dorothy no choice but to follow after him.

* * *

_"Why are you following me, Dorothy?"_

_"U-uh...e-eh...I-I'm not...f-following y-you!"_

_"Suit yourself."_


End file.
